Morgan in Wonderland
by Tristan C
Summary: Morgan Merritt,a feisty teen with pink hair and a girl who isn't afraid to wear tutu's and combat boots, never intended to fall down the rabbit hole. She had always wished she could, but never fathomed it could happen. And now she finds herself trapped...
1. Down The Rabbit Hole

**I do not own Alice In Wonderland, but I do own the character of Morgan Merritt! Please comment and I'll keep writing!**

Morgan Merritt never intended to fall down the rabbit hole. She had always wished she could, but never fathomed it could happen. Morgan received a great shock when she happened upon it. Morgan not only believed in the supernatural or abnormal, she lived it. But we won't start with the fall. Let's begin sometime before she glanced at the white rabbit out of the corner of her eye.

-000-

Morgan hated the sticky heat of a Georgia afternoon. Beads of perspiration begin to form under her bright pink hair. Yes, bright pink hair. Morgan was an individual and she loved to show it. That explained her black tutu, skinny jeans, and combat boots that she was wearing with a white, collared, buttoned down shirt and a black tie. She also had a miniature black bowler hat adorned with bright pink feathers and shreds of black gauze that shot out in all directions, perched at a strange angle on the side of her head. Anyway, Morgan was dying in the heat. Even in the shade of her suburban home she couldn't escape it. And all the terrible mosquitoes constantly buzzing, it was enough to drive her mad! She was lying outside of her home, headphones in, trying in vain to fan herself. She would have gone inside, but although she hated to admit it, her house freaked her out when she was home alone. Her mother, father, and two brothers were gone on a day trip to Atlanta. She had declined the invitation, wanting to stay home, although now she didn't even remember why.

She lay back on the grass staring up at the sky. She watched as the clouds changed into strange shapes. Every now and then, a quick cool and refreshing breeze would tease her, lasting only long enough for her to begin to enjoy it. She sighed, and texted for a few minutes but she slowly drifted back to watching the clouds. If it hadn't so stifling hot, she could've taken a nice nap under the only tree in her yard.

She glanced over at her empty house. It was strange how a house could be so creepy even in broad daylight, that's why she hated it so much. Morgan began to absentmindedly play with the feathers on her little hat.

"The Mad Hatter needs a new hat," she said to herself.

Her friends liked to call her the mad hatter because of her amazing style and hair color. Oh her friends… Just thinking about them made her homesick. It wasn't like she had moved or anything, but it was summer and she hadn't seen any of them for a while. She wasn't even going to see some of them because of the evil monster known as high school, which seeks to separate them. Oh how she missed them…

She began to lazily look around her yard at different things. Tulips, hedges, violets…As she looked to her left, Morgan noticed a single white rose peeking over the tall wooden fence that separated her yard and her neighbors. She walked over to admire at its perfect natural beauty. She twisted the stem and it snapped off the branch. It was perfect, with one leaf and not too many thorns. However, it was white. Mrs. Hollis, her short tempered neighbor, had specifically told the gardeners to plant RED roses.

_"Boy, is she gonna be pissed…"_ Morgan thought.

As vulgar as it sounds, that is the exact word to describe how Mrs. Hollis would react when she saw the white roses. Her neighbor often flew into child-like temper tantrums, which was probably the cause for the divorce Morgan had heard Mr. Hollis talking about.

"She could always paint the roses red," Morgan said to herself.

She giggled at the thought of that. How silly, painting the roses red! Yet, it seemed like a natural solution to her.

"_It must be the heat getting to me_," she thought to herself.

She got up of the ground and walked over to her porch. She picked up an empty vase off the porch table and took it to the side of the house. Then, she turned on the spigot and let the cool water fill up the vase. Morgan splashed some on her face, to cool it off. As she turned the water off and placed the perfect rose in the vase, one of its extremely sharp thorns embedded itself in her finger.

"OUCH!" Morgan yelped as she tried to pull it out.

A few drops of blood dripped off of her finger onto the rose, staining it red. She stuck her finger in her mouth to suck on the wound as she walked back to the porch. She set the vase down on the patio table and stared at it. Angry because she ruined it, she dejectedly sat on the stoop. She turned her Ipod all the way up and stared blankly at the street. Suddenly, a white rabbit hurried through Morgan's yard. Morgan's finger made a sucking noise as it fell out of her mouth. She had never seen such a large rabbit! It had to be at least the size of a small child. And it was wearing clothes! A blue waistcoat and a gold pocket watch, to be exact.

"_This is the most well dressed rabbit I've ever seen!_" Morgan thought in disbelief.

He held up the ticking watch to Morgan and tapped it before he dashed away. She stuffed her Ipod in her skinny jeans and dashed away after the rabbit.

"MISTER RABBIT! WAIT!" she yelled.

Morgan chased him from her yard out into the street. Faster she ran past house after house. She stopped and gasped for air outside a house where two elderly men were playing chess on the porch.

"My, my! Where are you off to in such a hurry?" one of the men asked.

"I'm chasing… a white… rabbit!" she wheezed.

Both of the men looked at her curiously.

"Did you see him come by here?" she asked them.

"No," said the second man.

She paused a moment to fan herself with her black lace hand warmer and then dashed away. As she jogged away she heard the other man shout.

"Aha! My red queen just captured your white queen!"

She wondered further down the street towards the cul-de-sac. She passed the house of an elderly woman named Mrs. James. Mrs. James was sitting on her porch, sipping from a bright pink tea cup from a mismatched tea set. Her obnoxious grandchildren, the Douley Twins were in the yard arguing over a toy.

"Would you like some tea, dear?" Mrs. James called to Morgan.

"No thank you! I'm following a white rabbit, have you seen him?" asked Morgan.

"No, I'm afraid I haven't. But I'm waiting for Mr. Donald Trump to come by and pick me up in his limo. Would you like to ride with me?"

"I'm sorry, I haven't the time!" Morgan huffed.

Mrs. James said nothing, she just sat there, fanning herself, and smiled. Mrs. James was a bit mad, so Morgan decided to go to the next house. At the next house, on the porch, a man smoking a cigar flashed her a seductive grin, the widest she'd ever seen. His wide round eyes and nose made him appear oddly cat like in his blue-gray suit.

"_He must be the lover of Mrs. Wentsworth_," she thought.

And from what Morgan had heard, he disappears as quickly as he arrives.

"He went that away," said the man, pointing to the forest beyond the cul-de-sac.

"Really! He did?" asked Morgan with excitement.

"Who did?" the man asked.

"The white rabbit!" said Morgan

"What rabbit?" the man asked.

"Ugh!" Morgan growled.

She turned back to the porch but to her surprise, the man had vanished. Angered, she marched into a gap between two houses and ran up a large sloping hill, to the woods that surrounded her neighborhood. She quickened her pace to a sprint.

-000-

Up on the hill at the edge of the woods Morgan looked down at the large subdivision in which she lived in. She turned her back to Ivy Park one last time before entering the dark wood. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of white and heard the ticking of a clock. She followed it to the base of an incredibly large tree. At the base, rimmed by the tree's large roots, she found herself standing at the edge of a big black hole, almost five feet in diameter.

"_I've never seen a rabbit hole this big! Why, a person could fit down this one!"_

She was suddenly reminded of the new Alice In Wonderland movie and how this looked exactly like the Tim Burton version of a rabbit hole. Peering down in the endless darkness, she considered jumping. Morgan had always dreamt of going to Wonderland, but now she was questioning if she really wanted to or not. She never got the chance to decide. Her hand, sweaty from the heat, slipped of the base of the tree and sent her tumbling down the hole and into the black void below.


	2. The Door Into Wonderland

Morgan's hand slipped from the base of the tree. She no longer had a grip and was leaning too far down into the hole. She tumbled down into the black abyss as tree roots snagged her tutu from the walls of this long, deep hole. As the light from the opening faded away, Morgan began to notice strange objects around her. There were things that you shouldn't find in a hole; like books and furniture. She could see them by the dim light produced by old fashioned lamps that were mounted on the edges of the hole. She was falling rapidly, and all the things around her floated as if they were suspended in water. Suddenly, her head cracked against a coffee table that was idly floating up.

"OUCH!" she yelled.

The impact with the table and the fast speed, at which she was plummeting, caused her little hat to fly off her head.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she screamed.

She fell farther away from her hat, screaming at the top of her lungs and flailing her arms and trying to grab something to hold on to.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" she shrieked.

She suddenly grabbed hold of an armchair and hoisted herself into it. She finally was able to survey her surroundings. Old fashioned lamps and rocking chairs lazily floated around her. Several books lowered themselves in front of her.

"Pride and Prejudice and Zombies? What a strange version. Why, Mrs. Hamrick should have put this in the reading list!" she giggled to herself.

There was also _Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters_. She flipped open the books and saw that they had no words, only pictures! Gruesome pictures at that, rotting zombies chasing those little Bennet girls from _Pride and Prejudice_. She loved it!

She giggled and suddenly her little hat landed in her lap. She quickly adjusted it and looked around the hole. There were tree roots jutting out everywhere, most of them were holding the furniture in place. There was a bookshelf, a globe, snow globes, and lots of ticking clocks. She noticed a jar of something called Orange Marmalade floating right in front of her. She stretched to get it but leaned too far and the chair tipped over, sending her tumbling deeper into the abyss.

She fell past several books and tables, and even a large grandfather clock that chimed as she soared past. Suddenly, a large piano fell dangerously close to her face; only inches from her nose, and began to play itself. It lucidly floated up as Morgan continued her frantic descent.

"This is it. This is how it ends," she thought, "fall down a rabbit hole and die."

But somewhere in the back of her mind, Morgan thought of the movie _Alice In Wonderland_ and how familiar this rabbit hole looked. And even farther back, she knew she'd be okay. Just then, she crash-landed on a bed that jutted out of the edge of the hole and it bounced her head-over-heels.

"_This is just like the bouncy slide we had at the End of Eighth Grade Cookout!" she thought._

The memory made her giggle out loud while she hurtled downwards.

"If I continue falling at this rate, I might go right through the center of the Earth. And come out on the other side, where people walk on their heads," she said as she flipped upside down and soared past a map.

"I might have to ask someone… OUCH!" she was cut short as she fell right through the hard ground onto an even harder stone floor.

Bits of the ceiling were scattered about her. Her head reeled as she sat up and tried to get a grip on reality. She was sitting on a small floor where the wall curved up around her. The floor was old and yellowed with a candlelit chandelier hanging upside down from it.

"_Chandelier!"_ Morgan thought.

There was a chandelier hovering above the floor, attached by a chain and the candles were upside down. This confused her a great deal. Then she noticed all of her hair was standing straight up on her head.

"There can't be a chandelier on the floor! Unless, I'm on the ceiling!" Morgan thought aloud.

As she did, it seemed as if the world turned upside down and she fell from the ceiling to the floor. Her head made an awful thumping noise as it was slammed against the even harder floor. By now, she was getting awfully used to falling. So, she sat up and brushed herself off, smoothed down her hair, and adjusted her hat, just like she did when she would tumble down the bouncy slide. She pulled herself off the tiled floor by holding the iron leg of a small table for support. She peered over the top of the small glass table slowly and cautiously. Once she was standing, she glanced around the circular hall she had fallen into.

The hard, apparently marble, floor was black and white tiled and the tiles were arranged in a hypnotically swirling checkerboard pattern. They were scraped and scuffed and looked extremely dirty. The walls were yellowed with age and the sickly green, faded wallpaper was peeling. The chandelier cast a dim flickering light over the whole room making it look even more sickly and old. The walls were old and had water stains, and old, moldy doors of various shapes and sizes lined the circular walls.

She pushed herself all the way up and noticed a small golden key on the table that she hadn't seen before. She picked it up and examined it. It was extremely tiny, the gold seemed to have been tarnished, and the end was almost, but not quite, heart shaped. She picked the key up and slowly walked around the room trying to see if it would fit in any of the key-holes on the doors. She walked over to a pair of white, moldy, stained, French doors that had a large boarded up hole on one of the doors. She slid the key into the tarnished gold lock, but it wouldn't budge. Next she moved to a single, peeling, dark red door. She slid the key into its dark bronze lock and jiggled the dented handle. It wouldn't open either. She turned to a pair of brittle gray doors. Sliding the key into the black iron lock, she heard what she expected: nothing. She walked to the other side of the room, where the final pair of doors stood. They were a light brown and covered thickly with dust. She tried put the key into the lock but it wouldn't even go in because the lock was too small.

That made Morgan extremely angry and her face turned almost as pink as her hair. She tightly gripped her little hat and stomped on the ground. Then, she turned to her left and noticed a dirty red velvet curtain hanging on a lopsided tarnished gold rod. Curiosity welled up inside of her and she slowly walked up to it. She stood there and studied the stained curtain for a moment before slowly grabbing an edge and quickly pulling it open. She found herself staring at the faded green, water-stained wall. She sighed, about to give up, when she noticed a small light coming from the bottom of the wall. She got down on her hands and knees to investigate.

She found herself staring at a small, ornately carved, wooden door. It was only about six inches high and had a small glass handle mounted on the tarnished gold lock. Morgan slowly slid the little key into the lock. She turned it and heard a soft click. Excitement welled up inside her as she turned the tiny handle and pushed the door open. It creaked as it opened and light flooded in the room from it. Morgan could hear birds chirping and felt a cool breeze of fresh air blow into the musty room. She decided she needed a better look, so she stuck her head inside. She saw a moldy dried up fountain surrounded by strange flowers and ivy. There where topiary trees trimmed in the shape of squirrels, and tea pots, and other strange things. She tried to fit her shoulders through the door, but her efforts were in vain; she simply would not fit.

She pulled her head out and sighed watching the small door creak shut by itself.

"_So much for a way out,_" she thought.

She turned to go return the key back to its table and saw a small bottle sitting there. She was certain that it hadn't been there before. She stood and walked to the center of the room where the table was. She set the key down and picked up the glass bottle. It was filled with an amber liquid and head a dark pink ribbon tied to the top, just before the cork. Attached to the ribbon was a small slip of manila cardstock. The card had the words "_**Drink Me" **_printed in black ornate writing.

"_Okay, this has got to be a dream,"_ she thought,_ "bottles don't appear out of nowhere and people don't fall through floors and end up on the ceiling."_

She picked up the bottle and removed the cork. She took a sniff and almost regurgitated her breakfast.

"_Eww! This smells like piss" _she thought.

She checked the label for anything that might indicate that the bottle contained poison, but only saw "_**Drink Me**_".

"Oh well, it's only a dream," she thought.

Holding her nose, she tipped the bottle back and sipped the liquid. She cringed in disgust and removed the bottle back from her lips and coughed.

"It even tastes like piss!" she coughed.

Suddenly she became very dizzy and noticed that the room and everything in it was growing taller and larger. Her hat became very big on her head and grew bigger, as well as her clothes. Soon, she was surrounded by a tent made of a tutu and skinny jeans.  
"AHHH!" she squealed.

She found her black lace hand warmer and wrapped in around her, tied the lace, and formed it into a small dress. She crawled out of the collar of her white shirt and looked around. She spotted the door and ran up to it.

She grabbed the glass handle and turned it. It wouldn't budge.

"Oh crap! It's locked!" she said.

She ran over to the three legged table and looked up. She could see the now large key, through the glass. She tried jumping several times but couldn't quite reach the edge of the table. She stood on the very edge of one of the legs and jumped as high as she could. She grabbed hold of the edge of the table and tried to hoist herself up. She grabbed the edge of the key and dragged it closer. However, she slipped and fell back on the ground.

"Ow!" she yelled as her tiny body smacked against the ground.

She sat up and rubbed her aching arms. She stood and began to walk back up to the table. On her way she tripped over something. She looked back and saw a glass box with gold edges. Morgan bent down to examine it closer. Pushing her hair back behind her ears and looked at the box's contents. Inside, sitting on the red velvet interior, was a small cake covered in white icing. She lifted the lid and removed the cake. The icing was hard, like a petit four, and on the top it was ornately decorated and in pink icing it said "_**Eat Me**_".

"_If it makes me smaller, then I can crawl under the door, and if it makes me bigger, I can reach the key!_" she thought "_But I won't make the same mistake as Alice."_

She bite into the cake and savored the moist layer. Then, she nibbled a little bite of the sweet icing.

"Mmmmm…" she said, her taste buds in heaven.

It tasted just like one of her Grandmother's rum cakes, but with real rum. However, she didn't have time to worry about the alcoholic contents because she quickly began to grow. Her hand warmer gown stretched as she began to tower over the table. Her head thumped against the roof. She scowled in frustration. She noticed that there was still some more of the amber liquid in the glass bottle. She slipped the key off of the table and into her hand. Then, she grabbed the little bottle and took a tiny sip. She held on to both the key and the bottle as she gradually grew smaller. When she was about three feet tall, she scooted her clothes towards the tiny door and took another sip from the bottle.

Once she was the right height, and her hand warmer gown fit properly, she skipped towards the door and slid the key in. She turned the glass handle and her heart raced. The door creaked open and revealed the not-so-magnificent garden. She ran to her skinny jeans and put the cake into her pocket, and she tucked the glass bottle into her other pocket. She pulled her clothes behind her and slowly walked through the door. She cautiously stepped down tiny stone steps that led from the door to the ground as the door creaked shut behind her. Strange, magnificent flowers bloomed around her and some looked as if they had faces. A miniscule flying rocking horse whinnied as it fluttered past and a bug with buttered bread slices for wings flew after the horsefly.

"Magnificent," she breathed.

She stopped and turned towards a particularly large purple rose and took a whiff. Its sweet aroma reminded her of the tiny cake.

"EXCUSE ME!" a voice shouted in her face.

Morgan's eyes flew open to reveal the rose glaring at her. It had a very human-like face and a very annoyed scowl.

"Oh my! Um, pardon me," Morgan said.

"Just who do you think you are, literally sticking your nose where it doesn't belong and disturbing my nap," the flower said in a heavy British accent.

"I'm very sorry ma'am. It's just that I've never seen a rose as beautiful as you nor have I smelled one more heavenly," Morgan said, being absolutely truthful.

The rose smiled and her "cheeks" turned a deep purple.

"Well, that's quite all right dear," the rose said, "my name is Peony."

"Hello, Peony, My name is Morgan."

"Morgan!" the rose said surprised.

"Yes…" she said.

"I'm sorry, it's just that… oh never mind. How is it that you got here?" she rose asked.

"I fell through a rabbit hole," Morgan said.

"Like Alice!" the rose beamed.

"Yes, but I'm terribly confused and lost. I've always wanted to come here, but now, I'm frightened," Morgan said.

"It's all right child," the rose said rubbing Morgan's face one of her leaves, "Nivens and Uilleam will be here for you soon."

"Who?" Morgan asked.

"Nivens McTwisp, he's a rabbit. And Uilleam the dodo," Peony said.

"Do you mean the white rabbit!" Morgan asked excitedly.

"He's a white rabbit, yes," the rose said.

Suddenly, a small, miniscule dragon flew in front of Peony's face.

"Bah! Be gone with you!" she said, swatting at it.

It hissed at her but flew away.

"Nasty little things they are, always singing the edges of my petals," the rose said.

"Was that a dragonfly?" asked Morgan.

"Yes it was," said Peony.

"Then those must be…" Morgan said pointing to a swarm of tiny flying rocking horses, "Horse flies?"

"Rocking, horseflies," the flower said.

"Oh…" said Morgan.

"My favorites are the bread and butterflies," said the flower pointing towards the bug with buttered bread for wings.

Morgan giggled.

"There you are," an impatient voice said, "I've been waiting for you."


End file.
